


another graceless night

by NoStringsOnMe



Series: instax [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Universe, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First War with Voldemort, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Marauders Era (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24623341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoStringsOnMe/pseuds/NoStringsOnMe
Summary: “You put on a good show, you know,” James murmured in her ear.“It helps that I have such a good sparring partner,” she said. She was leaning forward with her elbows on the table and she glanced over her shoulder at him with a knowing smile.|| In the aftermath of her parents' death, Lily still has to attend her sister's wedding. Grieving and grappling with the possibility of having feelings for a certain James Potter, she has got to keep it together. Except that James is her date. What could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Series: instax [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693111
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	another graceless night

**August 1977**

Lily awoke a little after five thirty in a dread sweat. She clasped her chest and tried to calm her laboured breathing, heartbeat erratic and thundering against her ears. The nightmare was gone, lost to the void of sleep but it’s aftermath ran through her trembling body. Mouth dry, she sipped stale water from the glass on her bedside table.

All she could remember was a vivid flash of green accompanied by terrible screams that made her blood run cold. That was enough to tell her she had been back in the church, back in the clutches of Alecto Carrow, back watching Lucius Malfoy order her parents’ execution, back covered in her sister’s blood. It was the same nightmare she had night after night with little variation. 

It had been a little over two months since then but it felt just as raw. Petunia had refused to speak to her despite the fact they now found themselves living back under the same roof. They had buried their parents together in a small plot in Cokeworth cemetery with an unassuming headstone soon after the incident. As far as anyone knew, they died in a car accident but Lily and Petunia knew the hideous truth. It hung heavy around their necks and Lily couldn’t shake the guilt that it truly had been her fault.

There had been other attacks that day: Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Godric’s Hollow, and a number of other muggle towns all suffered. Some were general mayhem, others, like the attack on the church, had been targeted and profoundly personal. It wasn’t lost on Lily that it had been Lucius Malfoy who led the attack on her and her family. Had she not been in a relationship with Narcissa for more than a year? Had they not professed a deep, aching love to one another? Had the prospect of war and her impending marriage not forced them apart?

It had been a secret, or as much of a secret as two love drunk teens could manage, but Narcissa was married now. And there were no secrets between husbands and wives. It must have got out one way or another, got back to He Who Must Not Be Named and he must have used it as a test of the Malfoy’s loyalties. 

Or maybe it truly was a coincidence. Such terrible bad luck. Why should she think so much of herself? She was naught but a lowly muggleborn.

Except, she knew in her heart of hearts, she had it right on the money. It was a punishment. It was a warning. It was an ugly threat. 

There was no hope for more sleep now. With an excruciating sigh, Lily laboured to her feet. Grey light filtered through the slats of her blinds. Outside, was quiet but for the incessant twittering of the birds. Padding from her room and down the stairs, Lily contemplated the day ahead.

Petunia’s wedding. 

Some part of her had really hoped that it wouldn’t come around, that somehow they would postpone in light of recent events, or the steady march of time would cease and she wouldn't have to watch her sister marry that awful man. Because once that marriage license was signed, she would no longer have a sister. Petunia had made her wishes quite clear on that front.

The house was quiet as Lily entered the kitchen. Petunia wouldn’t be up for a few hours and Marge, Vernon’s sister, wasn’t arriving until eight. With a sigh, she put the kettle on and dug out the jar of loose leaf tea her mother had loved so much. Its contents were dwindling now. In the weeks since her death, Lily had taken to drinking it, foregoing water almost entirely: the ritual was a comfort. Doing it this way was more time consuming than just dumping a teabag in a mug and boiling the kettle but it made her feel close to her mum. 

“There’s something to be said for taking your time with things,” she used to say as she put the tea kettle on the hob and waited for it to boil. “You appreciate things more.”

Of course, with hindsight, Lily was only now beginning to see the truth in these words. In truth, it grounded her, especially in the aftermath of a nightmare. 

Once the tea was made, she slipped out into the garden. Summer so far had been dull and wet and it smelt as if there would be more rain to come. The cool air made her shiver in her nightgown but she sat down on the bench at the end of the garden anyway, unbothered by the dew that dampened the fabric. 

It was going to be a long day. She didn’t want to have to face her family and see their pitying stares and listen to their condolences. The very thought filled her with nauseous guilt that chewed at her chest and made her skin prickle. But, she considered, at least James would be there. 

Ah, James. James, who had picked up the pieces, attended to her wounds, washed her of her sister’s blood, and let her into his bed when she begged him for release. He had been so obliging despite being in Diagon Alley during the attack and no doubt reeling from his own traumas. When she wasn’t caught up thinking about her parents, Lily thought of James. He came to her in hazy grey, in the half light of his bedroom, leaving a trail of hot kisses across her skin and overwhelming her senses.

They had spoken a few times since then but never alone and he’d been at the funeral along with the rest of their friends, of course. Petunia still thought he was her boyfriend so the wedding invite had been addressed to them both. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, when she couldn’t face meeting Vernon alone and had blurted out that she wanted to introduce her boyfriend as well. Well, it had become somewhat more complicated since then. 

Lily sipped her tea and watched the sky brighten behind a thick cover of clouds, considering her feelings. She liked him, how could she not? They were friends, had been for years, but anything more than that? It was absurd. Surely. 

Sleeping with him was an accident, she told herself, feeling quite insistent on the matter. It was an unfortunate, necessary accident. She knew how he felt about her. It was an open secret and she didn’t want to lead him on. That would just be cruel.

But even as she considered this, there was an undercurrent of doubt. James was good looking, there was no denying it. He was charismatic, dramatic to the nth degree, witty, and clever. He annoyed the living hell out of her sometimes, but still she would forgive him almost anything at this point. But then, the way he had kissed her that night . . .

A low heat pooled in Lily’s stomach at the memory and she shifted, recrossing her legs and pressing her thighs tight together.

No. She didn’t have feelings for James Potter. Absolutely not. She wouldn’t let herself. 

With a resolute nod, Lily stood, her tea finished, and retreated back into the warmth of the house. Seeing him today would be fine. They had spent loads of time together alone before. Today would be no different. 

From upstairs she thought she heard movements but didn’t stop to investigate, instead she started making breakfast. Petunia appeared in the kitchen as she was cracking eggs into the pan. She was still in her rollers, a patterned silk kerchief tied around her head.

“Morning,” said Lily, not looking up from the bubbling pan. She heard her sister moving around the kitchen behind her, clattering as she flicked the kettle on and retrieved a mug from the cupboard. “Do you want breakfast?”

She didn’t expect an answer so when Petunia gave her a muted, “Yes, please” it came as a shock. 

“How are you feeling about today?” she asked. Petunia was leaning on the counter next to her, arms folded as she waited for the kettle to boil. She shrugged a shoulder and scuffed the tiles with a slippered foot. 

“It’s already not the day I envisaged so how I feel is of no consequence,” she sniffed eventually. Lily had expected some sharp remark but there was no hard edge to her voice. She just sounded defeated and more than a little sad.

What was she supposed to say to that? There was no making this better. 

“They’d be proud of you, you know.” It sounded lame and insincere, parroting the words of their extended family and friends, but Lily didn’t know what else to say. She knew it was true but hollow words wouldn’t lessen the sting of their parents’ absence. 

Petunia just grunted in response.

~~~

Preparations for the day began in earnest once Marge Dursley arrived in a whirlwind just after eight. She was followed by the florist, the hairdresser, Petunia’s other bridesmaids, and several of the neighbours who insisted on passing on their well wishes to the bride. Lily kept out of their way, sticking to her bedroom. _She_ wasn’t a bridesmaid so there was no need for her to impose and add further madness to an already chaotic situation. So, she spent some time writing letters to her friends. 

Their letters were a comfort and a distraction. After what happened, she had put an embargo on sad, dead parent talk in their correspondence and insisted that they talk about literally anything else. 

Dorcas was lamenting the dearth of things to do in the Lake District and was ready to return home to Brixton once the mandatory family holiday was over. She’d already walked all her favourite trails and she didn’t turn 17 until the end of summer so had to suffer being unable to practise magic freely until the start of the new school year. Plus, she was adamant that she was going to kill her little sister if she kept annoying her. Without her older sister, Deidamia, as a buffer Damalis demanded a monopoly on her attention.

Mary on the other hand was embracing life without the Trace and had spent most of her summer researching new spells and experimenting with her own hybrid brand of magic. _‘You’d be surprised just how well Gaelic and Cantonese go together. There’s something in the way the words blend that works particularly well. So far, I haven’t managed to perfect anything that isn’t solely to do with nature, but hey, when has that ever stopped me?”_ she wrote in her last letter. Apparently, she’d spent the majority of her summer exploring the most magic rich spots on her home island of Skye in a bid to strengthen her creations.

Lily couldn’t wait to see what her friend had come up with once they saw each other again. What has started out as a mere curiosity had bloomed into a fully fledged passion. Every spare moment Mary had was spent pouring over books on spell creation and researching how she could bring both sides of her heritage into her magic. It was a sight to behold. 

A light tapping on the window drew Lily from her reverie and she saw a huge Blakiston's fish owl demanding to be let in. It looked furious at being left waiting, its large amber eyes glaring through the window and giving Lily a thoroughly reproachful look. She let it in and it hopped onto the windowsill, ruffling its feathers haughtily. Holding out its leg, it gazed at Lily as if to say, “Well? Come on then.” 

Tied to its leg was a scroll and a small black box. The second she untied it, the owl jumped from the ledge and soared off into the cloud covered sky.

“Charming,” Lily muttered. She recognised the owl from all the mornings it had swept into the Great Hall and dropped packages straight into James Potter’s porridge bowl. The letter was short and to the point, written in James’ familiar scrawl.

_‘Evans,_

_Today is going to be shit. But it’ll be less shit with a friend. Here’s something to bolster you before I get there. See you at 1._

_J.’_

Lily smiled fondly, absorbing the words for a moment before turning to the box. She had expected a corsage or something, but when she opened it she found a gold necklace with a deep green emerald pendant and matching teardrop earrings. Her breath caught. It would match her dress perfectly. She was touched that he’d remembered what colour the dress even was. She had mentioned it once weeks ago and, if she recalled correctly, she had actually been talking to Marlene at the time.

Tracing a finger across the gems, her heart quickened. This couldn’t be a present? It was far too much. Surely, he’d want these back at the end of the night? 

“Ever the one for grand gestures,” she mumbled, shaking her head and feeling quite overcome. 

The rest of the morning was uneventful, at least for Lily. Downstairs there was a great cacophony of noise and much hustle and bustle. She could hear Petunia laughing. It sounded frothy and light, genuine. Clearly her friends had managed to lift her spirits, a realisation that only served to dampen Lily’s mood even further. She hadn’t been able to do that. She didn’t know how, hadn’t known for a very long time. It was a sad thing, to realise you don’t truly know your own sister, your own family. 

Eventually, though, she got ready; pulled on the dark green, velvet dress with its halter neck and open back, did her makeup just so, curled her hair until it fell in a glamorous waves down her back, and fastened the strappy, gold shoes she’d bought just for the occasion. When she looked at herself in the long mirror hanging from her door, she almost didn’t recognise herself. But, she did like what she saw. 

The dress’ low back had been a cause for concern after injuring her shoulder, but she needn’t have worried. Caradoc Dearborn’s skill as a healer was not to be underestimated and he had patched up her spliced shoulder until there was only a faint silver scar in the shape of a Catherine wheel.

The cars for Petunia arrived just before one and she watched as her sister and her entourage spilled out of the house into the driveway. She was commanding in her presence and she looked stunning. Her dress was classic with a high lace collar and long lace sleeves, just like Grace Kelly. Truly, she had never looked more beautiful. Lily smiled and watched her pile into the bridal car along with Marge and her friends. At the very last moment she had declared she would ride with them and walk herself down the aisle. It was awfully brave, Lily thought. She didn’t think she could do that.

Bang on one there was a brisk rap on the door.

“Alright, Evans,” drawled James when she opened it. The lazy grin slid from his face as he caught sight of her. The sweep of his eyes heated her skin from the tops of her ears to the tips of her toes. 

“What are you staring at, Potter?” she snickered, locking the door behind her before swinging back around with her hands on her lips. He recovered himself quickly and was grinning from ear to ear.

“You scrub up well,” he said with an appreciative nod. Lily rolled her eyes but smiled and took the arm he was offering her. 

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

It was true. He looked very dapper in his navy blue, velvet smoking jacket and bow tie. He even had a matching black silk waistcoat and his hair was styled into smooth curls. Inclining his head, he took the compliment with a very un-Jameslike grace.

“I see you got my present,” he said airily as they meandered down the street, a wicked curl to his mouth.

At this, she flushed, ducking her head and hiding behind her hair.

“Do you really want me to keep these?” she asked, touching a finger to the emerald pendant, still not believing he’d sent her such an extravagant gift. 

“Of course! They were a gift!” He made a show of sounding scandalised but there was an air of smug delight in his tone. 

“It’s too much,” she countered. “I don’t even want to _begin_ to think how much-”

“Isn’t that what ‘boyfriends’ are ‘supposed’ to do when they take their ‘girlfriends’ to weddings?” he interrupted, loading the sarcasm on thick as he made little air quotes with his fingers and nudged her in the ribs. But then he softened and gave her a sidelong glance. “I wanted to do something nice. I remember you saying that you couldn’t find anything to match.”

This brought her up short. She squeezed his arm and they shared a brief smile.

“In that case, I should say thank you. They’re perfect.”

“Damn right. I have excellent taste,” he quipped and gave her a cheeky wink.

It felt like that morning’s worries had been entirely unfounded. There was no awkwardness. They simply fit back together as they had done before the attack. It was easy and Lily found herself laughing along with his jokes, even making some of her own. However, as she watched James throw his head back full of wild abandon, she couldn’t help but let her eyes roam up and down the column of his throat, remembering how he’d shuddered under her lips and how his breath had caught every time she gripped him by the back of the neck to pull him ever closer.

They made their way down the street to a secluded alley where they would be able to disapirate without being seen. Lily had politely declined to ride in the cars with the wedding party, knowing it would be vastly overstepping her welcome. Apparting had been James’ idea. She didn’t know how she’d thank him for it. This way, she could arrive just in time and sit at the back where people couldn’t accost her about her newly deceased parents. 

Lily had not been looking forward to stepping foot back in the church where her parents had died. The Ministry had been thorough in their cleanup and restoration. There was not a vase nor stained glass window out of place when they arrived. It was as if the attack had never happened. But still, it set Lily on edge to be there again. It made her want to run, like there was an unscratchable itch beneath her skin. Sweat beaded under her arms and nervous energy shook her legs so much that they rattled in place as she and James settled in the very back pew. 

Heart racing, Lily swallowed. Laughter echoed in her ears and her vision tinted green.

“Stay with me, Lils. I need to know what aunts to dodge,” James murmured in her ear, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

The sound of his voice and the feel of her hand in his grounded her. She shot him a wan smile and slowly, her breathing came back under control. Just in time, because the organ started up and in walked Petunia’s bridesmaids. They were beaming, looking resplendent in cornflower blue dresses and clutching smaller versions of the bride’s bouquet. 

Then came Petunia. 

She glided down the aisle, taking her time, head held high. With a poise Lily had never seen before, she looked around at the congregation with a serene, untroubled look. She even waved like the Queen. 

Heat rushed under Lily’s eyes and her throat constricted. Burying her face into her handkerchief, she allowed a few tears to fall before dabbing viciously at her face. She couldn’t cry, she was wearing makeup. Without a word, James wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a tight one armed hug. He kept his eyes trained on the altar but when she glanced up at him, he stoked a few circles onto her hip with his thumb and the corner of his mouth hitched up.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Petunia Evans and Vernon Dursley,” began the priest in a booming voice that carried all around the chapel.

Feeling shaky, Lily leaned into James’ touch. The contact was welcome. Part of her had wanted to keep him at a distance but it was too easy to disregard that. He was a very tactile person.

The ceremony was simple, unfussy, but emotional. Allusions to her parents permeated everything and Lily struggled to keep the tears at bay. The one concession Tuney had granted her was allowing her to do a reading. Her voice shook as she recited Corinthians I: ‘ _Love is patient, love is kind_ ’ etc. It almost became too much for her but then, James caught her eye and gave her thumbs up, his tongue poking out from between his teeth and she managed to finish the passage without breaking down. When she retreated to her pew, he put an arm around her shoulders and let his knuckles drift up and down the bare skin of her upper arm.

It left her feeling quite overwhelmed. She knew she shouldn’t read too much into it. They were supposed to be a couple after all. It would be weird if he didn’t comfort his visibly distraught girlfriend. People would ask questions and it wouldn’t take much for the rumour mill to start turning. Cokeworth was a small town and people loved to talk.

~~~

“You look like you could use a drink?”

“You read my mind.” Lily took the proffered glass of champagne and took a long draft. It fizzed on her tongue and was cool, crisp, and deliciously dry. She knocked it back in two goes without even trying.

“Someone’s thirsty,” chuckled James, one eyebrow raised.

“Don’t judge me, Potter. I think I need to be considerably less sober if I’m to survive the rest of the night.”

They were huddled into a booth at the hotel bar. The rest of the wedding reception was in the next room, the cheery clamour of voices muted by a long, brown velvet curtain. It was only 4pm and Lily already wanted to leave. Every single person she had spoken to had looked at her in exactly the same way: head tilted, mouth downturned, and eyes narrowed in a way that somehow also managed to make them too wide. It was a look she hated with a burning passion. No matter. Vernon’s father had splashed out for an open bar and she fully intended to take advantage of that fact.

“Hey, no judgements here but maybe wait till after dinner to get hammered, yeah?” James said. He wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were roaming the bar with practised disinterest. “I spent most of last summer looking after Pads because he refused to eat before getting plastered. ‘ _Eating’s cheating, Prongs_ ’, he’d say. It was obnoxious.”

“To be fair, he had just been disowned,” Lily countered, trying not to laugh at the spot on impression of Sirius.

James’ head lolled around and he gave her a long suffering look.

“Maybe so, but _you_ have never had to clean up his spew while he’s draped over you declaring how much he loves you.” He shuddered at the memory and sipped his champagne. Lily sniggered.

“Sounds like Padfoot.” She paused for a moment, looking down at her hands and rolling the stem of the empty champagne flute between her fingers. “I’m sorry I’m being such a downer. This probably isn’t what you signed up for.”

“Naw, you’re good. I didn’t expect you to be sunshine and smiles,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just here to make sure you at least crack a few smiles today and if I can torment your delightful new brother-in-law by waffling some magical bullshit at him, then so much the better.”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes and he bumped his shoulder against hers.

“You’re a good friend, James,” she said, smiling broadly, and for the first time that day, she thought it might actually reach her eyes. However, as she spoke, she thought she saw her companion’s grin falter but it was only for a second. Perhaps she’d imagined it. “I mean, you’re an idiot, you know? But I like to think you’re my idiot.”

This made him laugh. James, Lily noted, laughed with his whole body. He’d throw his head back, teeth flashing, and he’d rock backwards, hands crossing his chest. Lily knew this but it was like she was seeing him for the first time. He was free and open with his affection too, so free and open that Lily felt greedy for wanting to gobble it all up for herself. But, she reasoned, he had offered it to her today. So she would hoard it, bask in it.

“I think Sirius might fight you on that,” he said once his laughter subsided.

“Pfft, I could take Padfoot in a fight. I’m the superior duellist,” Lily scoffed and James gave a snort of derision.

They descended into good natured bickering about who amongst their friends would win in a fight. There was a palpable energy between them that Lily delighted in. It zinged off every word. By degrees they edged closer together until the long lines of their bodies were pressed together, heads bowed conspiratorially and feet tangled beneath the table.

“No way!” Lily cried, much louder than she intended, and she drew several filthy stares from several Dursley-looking folk by the bar. “Dorcas would put you on your arse in a second. She’s got a mad 6th sense for that kind of thing. Did you not see what she did to Penelope Fenwick last term? It was brutal.”

“Fine. You have a point. Meadowes would win hands down but I reckon if me and Pads tag teamed her we’d get the upper hand.”

“Yeah right. You keep telling yourself that.”

Their bickering continued right through until dinner. It was all good fun. They were just talking for the sake of filling time but it felt _good_. Lily was laughing, smiling, maybe even beginning to have a good time. People left them alone, not wanting to get in the middle of whatever it was that was between them. From the outside, it probably looked a bit like an argument but they knew better.

When they sat down for dinner, Lily felt buoyed. She felt drunk off James’ presence. It was like a natural high. So, when the wine started flowing she loosened off even further. She didn’t drink too much, just enough to take the edge off and to find the speeches funny. Feeling loose, she giggled and engaged in sparling conversation with the people at her table, all the while, running gentle fingers across the inside of James’ wrist. 

There was always some point of contact between them, a hand on an arm, fingers intertwined, knees pressed together, a shoulder nudge here and there. It kept Lily present, grounded. It was a necessary lifeline. They were a convincing couple.

“Tell me, Lily,” asked some family friend whose name she had forgotten. “Exactly where did you meet this charming young man?”

James had been entertaining her for a good 20 minutes when finally she leaned across him to grasp Lily’s forearm and draw her into the conversation. 

“Oh, we met at school,” she said brightly, cosying into James’ side as he threw a casual arm around her shoulders. “We’re in the same year.”

“Lovely!” clucked the woman, clapping her hands. “But you must tell me how _this_ -” she gestured empathically between them “-happened. I _do_ so love a story of young love.”

Lily’s answering laugh was faltering. Their eyes met and she found she didn’t know what to say. James’ eyes gleamed gold, full of mirth and a warmth that seeped through to the very marrow of her bones. It was he who answered.

“Would you believe that we actually got off to a very rocky start?” he chuckled, turning to the woman. She was enraptured, chin resting on her hand. “Lily didn’t like me very much to begin with. She liked my friends much better than me and I believe the word ‘toerag’ was thrown about on more than one occasion.”

Flushing, Lily smiled and wriggled but James held her close, brushing his knuckles across the top of her arm again. 

“So he wore you down?” the woman asked, bright eyes turned towards Lily.

“Not at all,” interjected James before she could go any further. His tone was firm but not unkind. “We just - we came to an understanding, didn’t we, Lils.”

“You mean you deflated your ego,” she teased, nudging him in the ribs and he gave her an indulgent look, eyes raking over her face and pausing on her mouth for just a second before turning back to the woman.

“That’s one word for it.”

“So, who asked who?”

“Oh, I asked him,” said Lily, heat flooding her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to her hands. That, at least, was true. “I realised I wanted something more than friendship. He makes me laugh and I knew I could rely on him. It’s like he knows what I need before I do.”

When she looked back up, James had an inscrutable look on his face. His head was cocked to one side and he was rubbing one finger across his bottom lip. She searched his eyes for some clue to what he was thinking but there was no diving his thoughts. But then he smiled, eyes crinkling and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. His lips were warm and soft, and with the close proximity she got a whiff of amber. It rocketed her back to a much more heated kiss where that had been all she could smell. It sent a thrill of electricity through her and she pressed closer.

The woman appeared placated and she turned away from them with a fond, “Good luck.” It was almost time for the cake cutting and first dance.

“You put on a good show, you know,” James murmured in her ear.

“It helps that I have such a good sparring partner,” she said. She was leaning forward with her elbows on the table and she glanced over her shoulder at him with a knowing smile. His eyes had been skating over her back and when their eyes locked together, he flushed, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “Come on, Tuney is about to have her first dance.”

Lily swept to her feet and tugged James’ hand for him to follow her. There was a crowd gathering around the dancefloor waiting for Petunia and her new husband. The DJ introduced them and they took to the floor to rapturous applause. Lily watched as they swayed in time to the music, looking deeply into each other's eyes. Petunia radiated joy. She beamed at Vernon, hardly able to look away for a second. 

As she observed them, however, Lily was hit by another crushing wave of sadness. It smashed into her, seizing her chest and battering against her already bruised countenance. She had to get away. With a gulp, she covered her mouth, turned tail, and ran from the reception room.

She made her way to the gardens. It had begun to drizzle and there were very few people willing to stand out and get wet. With a dry sob, she shuddered as the cool air washed over her. 

Everything felt so fucked. No. That wasn’t quite right. She felt alone. Familyless. Cut loose. The ties that she had held so close for so long were gone. Petunia wouldn’t want to see her after this. Turning her face up towards the darkening sky, she took a long breath in and hugged her elbows as rain drops spattered across her cheeks. 

“Lily?” James appeared at her side and she let him pull her into a close hug. She buried her face in his chest and he rested his cheek atop her head. “We’ll be your family, you know that right? Me, Pads, Moony, and the rest. You’re not as alone as you think.”

His voice was soft, persuasive. It was a hand outstretched in her time of need, a guiding light she desperately wanted to follow. When did he get so perceptive, she wondered. Or had he always been that way and she hadn’t bothered to notice because she was too caught up railing against his ego?

“You’re too good to me,” she mumbled, voice muffled. She scowled into his chest, trying to make sense of how she felt at that moment.

“Nonsense.”

They were alone now. The last few people who had been braving the drizzle had retreated back indoors. Music warbled and there were raised voices as people sang along to Dancing Queen. Lily sniffled though no tears had come. It seemed she had finally run dry. Pulling back, she looked up at James who met her gaze with soft eyes. Even in this bad light, she could pick out all the gold flecks nestled amongst the hazel. Her heart stuttered and she felt as though she was standing on the edge of precipice, one teetering misstep and she’d fall.

Without meaning to, her gaze fell to James’ mouth. Reflexively, she licked her lips. She let her eyes linger there for a moment before dragging them back up. The kiss that followed was inevitable. There was no audience for them to play to. This wasn’t part of the charade, the careful show they had been putting on all day. Or had it even really been a show? It was too easy to pretend with James, it came naturally. 

The kiss was slow, gentle this time. She didn’t move to deepen it and neither did he. Her hands were balled into weak fists on his chest and he had one hand tangled in her hair, the other firm on her waist. But, he was the first to break away and she groaned at the loss, searching for his mouth. James squeezed his eyes shut, pressing their foreheads together, but kept a careful distance at the same time.

“Don’t do this to me again,” he husked, sounding strained. A pained look twisted across his chiselled features and deep lines appeared between his eyebrows. “I know you’re hurting but you can’t keep - I _can’t_ Lily.”

With both hands on her shoulders, James pushed her back a few steps. She stumbled, unbalanced in her strappy heels. He steadied her, hands drifting down her arms until they were completely separated. The distance between them cut Lily to the bone. Her stomach twisted itself into painful knots and she longed to close the distance once more. Though it was no more than two feet, it felt like a great inhospitable wasteland that would tear them to shreds.

Of course, he was right. She was taking advantage and letting the worst parts of herself run riot just because she knew if she asked, then he’d give it to her. Except, she didn’t think that that was the whole truth. She could love him so easily. It wouldn’t take much at all. She was half way there already.

“I’ve made no secret about how I feel about you, but you don’t feel the same and that’s fine, I _get_ that and I _want_ to be your friend, okay? But you _can’t_ keep doing this to me.” The words came in an apologetic rush. James’ hands were deep in his pockets now and he was glowering at the patio slabs. “What is it the muggles say? ‘I’m not bulletproof when it comes to you’, right? Yeah, well, that’s me.”

He sounded defeated and like he thought she’d be angry. She wasn’t. She was muddled, her thoughts a snarl of tangled threads. Guilt shouldered its way forward and embraced her, nuzzling her neck with a leer that made her want to cower but Lily stood firm. She couldn’t hide from these feelings. Next came shame with its cold fingers and sour breath. She shuddered and not just from the rain. Wrapping her arms around her torso, Lily hugged herself. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, eyes cast downwards. “I know it’s not fair. I’ve been selfish.”

“None of this is how I imagined, how I would’ve done things,” James groaned, running a hand through his hair, upsetting the neat curls. He turned from her and looked across the gardens. His shoulders heaved as he sighed.

“I guess I hoped that you’d see I’d changed, wasn’t so much of an insufferable prick anymore, and that you’d actually want to be with me. Stupid really,” he huffed. It looked as if something had broken within him, his normally impeccable posture had crumpled and he suddenly looked so small.

Lily dithered on the spot, unsure if she should go to him. Her chest was tight and the urge to run had returned in full force.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. It was lame, barely able to contain the depth of her true feelings. She realised now that she had robbed her friend of something special.

“I don’t regret it, Lily. That night - it wasn’t a mistake, not for me at least. I was barely holding on as it was . . . I wanted it as much as you did.” He sounded earnest enough that Lily almost believed him. She certainly didn’t regret it but that gnawing guilt wouldn’t go away. 

“I don’t either but you deserve better than me. Better than I am just now at least. Someone that won’t be so fucking selfish and cruel,” she insisted, taking a careful step towards him until she stood at his side and they could look out across the darkened lawn together. Deep in the shadows, a bushy tailed fox slinked through the underbrush.

“Except I don’t want any of them.”

When Lily looked across at him, James gave her a most devastating smile. It wasn't his usual megawatt smile, no, this was a low, smouldering thing that lit up the ruins of his broken facade. He was done pretending. Everything was laid bare.

They fell into silence as Lily absorbed everything.

“If you asked me again, I don’t think I’d say no,” she said. The sudden admission tumbled, graceless and heavy, from her mouth before she could stop it. Besides, it was true. How could it not be?

“What?” James looked like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open ever so slightly. He blinked slowly at her, trying to register what she had said.

“If you asked me out. I wouldn’t turn you down,” she said and turned to face him fully.

“Really?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

“Lily . . .” He was apprehensive, chewing his bottom lip.

“Go on,” she urged, taking his hand in hers. It was cool, chilled by the damp August air but just the touch of his skin on hers was enough to make her feel warm. It was the same feeling as wrapping your fingers around a freshly brewed mug of tea: comforting, familiar, and safe.

“Will you go out with me sometime?”

“Yes. I’d like that.”

James let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair again. It was damp now and it fell limply into his eyes but he grinned. Ah, she thought, there was that megawatt smile she adored so much. She beamed right back. James turned his face up to the sky and let out a bark of delighted laughter.

“Merlin’s beard, Lily. You sure know how to put a guy through the wringer.” He shook his head but there was no malice in his words. He was animated, fizzing with new found energy, as he swept Lily into a tight hug. Burying his face in her shoulder, Lily could feel him smile against her skin. 

The world drifted away as they stood locked in a fierce embrace. James was wrapped completely around her, the smell of amber was in her nose and her heartbeat echoed loud in her ears. As one, they moved to find each other’s mouths and this time there was no sadness, bitterness, grief, or desperation. It was joyful, curious. It made Lily weak at the knees. She sunk further into the kiss, melted as James’ drew her closer and cupped her cheek.

They were an island, a steady rock standing strong against whatever the world threw their way. Or at least, that’s how it felt in the moment. Lily hadn’t realised just how much she wanted this. Perhaps some part of her had considered it in the abstract, how nice it would be with _someone_ . But she didn’t want just _any_ someone. She wanted James Potter. It was painfully clear to her now.

Eventually, though, their kiss had to come to an end. They broke apart, sharing the same breath, noses brushing. Lily stood high on her tiptoes, arms flung around James’ neck. He had her pressed flush against him, one arm locked around her waist, supporting most of her weight.

If they were to do this, Lily thought, she would give it her all. She had a lot to make up for but that wouldn’t stop her from diving in head first. She would be better, she vowed, not just for James, but for herself. Maybe she was due herself some kindness.

“Shall we go dance?” she murmured, brushing their noses together and placing gentle, fluttery kisses across James’ cheeks. 

“Hmm, or we could leave?” he asked with a grin and a twinkle in his hazel eyes. Just by his tone, she could tell he knew he was pushing his luck.

“Give it a few hours. Don’t want to set tongues wagging even more than they already are,” she replied though she was sorely tempted just to say, fuck it, and run off into the night. 

Where would they go, she wondered. The world was their oyster. They were Traceless wizards who could apparate after all. But, she knew that it would be more than likely that they’d end up in Sirius’ Camden flat drinking firewhiskey into the wee small hours. There were worse ways to spend a night.

With a coy smile, Lily planted another lazy, open-mouthed kiss on James’ lips and pulled him back towards the reception room. But until then, they would dance until their feet ached because they were young, this was something wonderful and new, and, Lily was certain, the start of something special.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of [@hogwartsonline's](https://hogwartsonline.tumblr.com/) Dialogue O.W.Ls. I used the prompts "You're an idiot, you know? But you're my idiot" and "I'm not bulletproof when it comes to you". Is the second one used somewhat tenuously? Maybe so but I couldn't resist!
> 
> Big thanks to [rosssaliie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosssaliie/pseuds/rosssaliie) for being my beta.
> 
> As always, you'll find me over [@martelldoran](https://martelldoran.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
